


Fox and the Hound

by admiralty



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Queequeg is a good boy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, a very very good boy, even though he really isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralty/pseuds/admiralty
Summary: Prompt: Scully goes to San Diego and needs Mulder to keep Queequeg for the weekend because her usual "dog-sitter" is not available





	Fox and the Hound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AweburnPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AweburnPhoenix/gifts).



> My dear, sweet Laia... I hadn't planned to participate this go-around but someone had to drop out and I wanted you to have this. You've been wanting this story for so long it must be kismet it landed in my lap to write for you. I hope I did it justice. 💕

 

  
**_SATURDAY_ **

 

“Sit! Stay! _Queequeg!_ ”

Mulder locked eyes with the tiny ball of fur that had destroyed his living room. Queequeg snarled, actually snarled, and bared his teeth. It was hard to believe such a tiny thing could wreak this amount of havoc in such a short time.

He should never have agreed to this. But he was starting to suspect there was probably nothing he wouldn’t do for Scully at this point.

  


_“The dog sitter had an emergency and I really don’t want to board him, Mulder,” she’d said as she held the dog in his doorway. “He doesn’t like other dogs very much. He really only likes me, to be honest.”_

_“What makes you think he’ll like me?” Mulder argued. Queequeg panted happily, looking from partner to partner._

_"Of course he’ll like you,” she insisted. “What’s not to like?" He knew when she was buttering him up. He couldn’t help but enjoy it._

_Scully was hopeful, Mulder was skeptical. It was a rare reversal in their dynamic. But he couldn’t say no to her. He reached out and she smiled, placing the dog in his arms. Trusting him. He wanted her to trust him._

_“When are you back?” he asked, as she pulled from her pocket a folded up piece of paper that presumably contained instructions and slid it into his own shirt pocket._

_“The wedding is tomorrow, and I’ll be home Monday. Is that okay?”_

_Queequeg licked Mulder’s face, and he fell for it. This would be a snap, and it would make Scully happy. Done and done._

_“Have fun. Be sure and catch the bouquet.”_

_"I always do,” she smirked. She gave her dog a final scratch on the head, told him to be good, and then looked at Mulder. “Thank you for taking care of him, I mean it.”_

_“We’ll be fine. Say hi to the family for me.”_

_She grinned, plunked down a bag of doggy necessities, and with that she was off to San Diego for three days. He looked down at the dog in his arms, who stared after Scully. The moment the elevator door closed he growled and squirmed out of his grasp, running deep into the apartment._

  


Queequeg glared at him now, truly glared, and he was starting to suspect this dog didn’t want to be here any more than Mulder wanted him here. He waddled to the edge of the couch, which he’d already taken a substantial bite out of, and lifted his leg slowly, his eyes never leaving Mulder’s the entire time.

Mulder made no sudden movements. He shook his head in frustration. “What the _hell_ does she see in you?”

As if the dog sensed Mulder’s disdain, he let it fly. A thin stream of urine sprayed the couch.

“No! Bad dog!” Mulder yelled, as he lunged at the animal. Queequeg yelped and ran into the kitchen. Just then the phone rang. He grabbed some paper towels with one hand and his ringing cell with the other.

“Mulder,” he answered.

“Mulder, it’s me. How’s everything going?”

“Oh, umm… fine, it’s fine.” He knelt down and soaked up the dog pee, scrunching his face in disgust. “How was your flight?”

“Just landed. Wanted to check in, see how you’re doing.”

“Already? Scully. We’re fine. I can handle this. Just go, relax. Have a good time. We are gonna be fine.” Realizing he’d used the word ‘fine’ four times now, he wondered if she actually believed him.

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me, Scully.” He ran into the kitchen with the phone tucked behind his ear to grab a sponge.

“I trust you, Mulder. Oh- that’s my ride, I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up and he was alone with the dog again. Queequeg growled and started gnawing and tearing at his kitchen rug. 

It was time to call in reinforcements.

 

***

 

“What is that thing?”

Mulder gaped at his friend. “It’s a dog! Jesus, Byers!”

“ _That_ is not a dog, okay? I’ve had dogs,” Byers said, unhelpfully. Queequeg huddled underneath Mulder’s desk, his dark eyes watchful.

“You’re not helping,” Mulder replied.

“Why do you have a dog, anyway?”

“It’s Scully’s dog, she’s out of town and I’m watching it for her.”

“Oh,” Byers said, looking pointedly at Mulder. “Okay. This is all starting to make more sense now.”

Mulder eyed him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Okay, let’s formulate a plan of attack,” Byers said. “Has he eaten?”

Mulder glanced over to the bowl of untouched kibble. “That would be a negative. He’s done nothing but tear up the furniture and pee on it. He’s also really good at the evil-eye.”

“Well, you have to make him comfortable,” Byers said. “It’s new for him here, he’s probably afraid. He doesn’t trust you yet.”

“I don’t trust him either,” Mulder pointed out. 

“Okay, fair. So what do we do to cultivate trust?” Byers asked. 

“This feels like therapy.”

Byers shrugged. “Dogs have feelings too. Like any creature you have to establish what kind of relationship you’re going to have.”

Queequeg eyed the two men, his little tawny mug bouncing back and forth between them. Mulder glared.

“I can’t see how anyone could have a relationship with this walking disaster,” he grumbled. 

“Well, Scully does, right?” Byers asked. “He can’t be all that bad.”

Mulder sighed, relenting. “I guess that’s true. I wonder what her secret is.”

“She’s not you, for starters.” 

“Thanks a lot,” Mulder said. But he knew what he meant. Any living creature coming into contact with Scully would naturally and instantly fall in love with her.

Byers crouched down and beckoned to the dog. “Here, buddy. It’s okay, come on. This is Scully’s friend, you’ll like him. He’s… not that bad.”

“When did you get so mean, Byers?” Mulder asked. Queequeg just stared, bored. He was not impressed. Byers gently tugged on Mulder’s sleeve, bringing him down to his level. Mulder held his arm out to try to pet him.

“That’s it, buddy…”

_Closer… closer…_

Queequeg lunged forward and nipped his finger.

“ _Ow!_ ” Mulder recoiled, cursing. Byers stood, hands on his hips. 

“All right, I think we’re going to need to take drastic measures,” he announced. “What do you have in your fridge?”

“Scully said on her instructions not to feed him people food,” Mulder explained. But Byers pinned him with a look, and Mulder nodded in agreement, determined. They headed into the kitchen and raided the fridge, and Mulder pulled out some leftover Chinese takeout. It was chow mein and didn’t smell great, but it was probably good enough for the dog.

“We have liftoff,” he said triumphantly. 

“Will he eat that?” Byers asked.

“This dog will eat anything,” Mulder said, recalling with disgust the remnants of dead old lady he’d once snacked on. _Definitely good enough for this dog._

Mulder returned to the living room and held a piece out where Queequeg could smell it, and sure enough, the dog came out instantly. He chowed down the slimy noodle and barked happily, nuzzling Mulder with his nose. Problem solved.

“See?” Byers said. “Animals are easy. People are the tough ones.”

Mulder nodded, scratching Queequeg behind the ears. He certainly had that right.

  


***

 

  
He was having that dream again.

It was the same one he had all the time lately, and the feeling it gave him while it was happening was almost worth the immense guilt he had after waking up. 

Almost.

He was laying on a bed, some bed. It never mattered where. What mattered was the woman on top of him: Scully, perched on his abdomen, her knees on either side of him, her fiery hair dangling down into his face. His hands settled on her thighs as she gazed down at him, smiling. 

That was it. That was all that ever happened. Apparently it was all his subconscious would allow.

He actively tried not to objectify his partner, at least consciously. He wasn’t always successful; she was a beautiful woman. He was a man. It was difficult not to. 

But at nighttime, when he was asleep, his brain indulged in what he knew it would not tolerate during waking hours. He had no choice but to succumb.

Things in his dream changed from night to night; little things like the color of her pajamas or what she did with her hands. Sometimes her fingers would twirl in tiny circles across his chest, speeding up his breathing. Other times her hands would drift down to his, intertwining their fingers together. It was simple every time, almost innocent, although his thoughts and his desires certainly weren’t.

But tonight was different. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse quickened as she brought her hands to cup his face softly. Her fingertips slid along his jawline and suddenly her face was mere inches from his, her warm breath against his skin. He shouldn’t be able to feel it in a dream but he did. Then her lips touched his, and it wasn’t real, just a dream, but _oh, god… is this really happening?_

Kissing Scully wasn’t an idle inclination, a passing urge. Of course he wanted to kiss her. The idea crossed his mind more frequently than he wanted it to. He’d tell himself to stop, that thinking about this was not okay, that surely Scully would hate it if she knew he was having these thoughts… so he always stopped. But the dreams still persisted, night after night. What did this mean?

Her lips just hung there, pressed against his for a long moment, this forbidden contact the only thing he could focus on. But soon her tongue softly pushed between his lips, an offering. He accepted it gratefully, willingly, as his own tongue met hers in response. And suddenly he was making out with his partner, a line crossed if only in his mind, in his dreams, from which there was no return.

The kiss was gentle but passionate, their wet mouths bumping up against each other in an unpracticed dance, exploring and indulging. She moved to kiss his cheek, his forehead, his nose.

_Scully_ … he moaned. Maybe only in his dream, maybe in reality. It didn’t seem to matter right now.

His cheek again, then his.. chin? Her tongue darted out and began tasting every part of his face. It was strange, but so was Scully kissing him at all. He went with it. 

Suddenly her tongue was in his ear, licking his earlobe, then _inside_ his ear, and his confusion was palpable when suddenly consciousness took over, Dream Scully disappeared and instead he looked up into two deep brown canine eyes, sparkling mischievously.

Queequeg barked triumphantly, as if this had been some kind of diabolical plan.

“Aaauugh!” Mulder sat up, pushing the dog off his chest in disgust. “Oh my god! Aauugghh!” He leaped off the couch and wiped frantically at his slobbery face as he stood, looking down at the tiny beast in horror. Queequeg just stared at him, his mouth open and panting, with that stupid doggy grin on his face.

“Bad dog!” He couldn’t think of what else to say. The dog hadn’t really done anything wrong. _He_ had. Thinking about Scully like that, even only in a dream, was so wrong, and it felt as if the dog had known what was going on in his mind. Like he’d been punishing him. Mulder was ashamed of himself. He probably deserved this.

He ran into the bathroom and turned on the sink, washing his face and his ear, then drying himself off with a towel. His hair was wet and stuck up in spikes and for the first time he looked down and noticed he was sporting quite the telltale erection. He briefly considered hopping into the shower and handling it, but… he wasn’t alone. Scully wasn’t actually here, but he still felt like she was. 

Queequeg barked cheerfully from the other room and he slowly turned around the corner to find the dog sitting in the middle of the couch, in the spot Mulder had only just vacated. His spot. He circled a couple times, making himself at home and panted a bit, the tiny pink tongue Mulder had mistaken for Scully’s waggling innocently. 

“Yeah, keep smiling,” Mulder gritted. “You know what you did.”

As if the dog had morphed overnight into a completely different animal, he barked again happily and nuzzled contentedly into the couch cushion. Mulder chuckled and shook his head.

He crouched down and hesitantly reached out to scratch behind Queequeg’s ears, and the dog let him, for the first time. His little eyes closed and his little back rose up and down, up and down. “Promise me you won’t tell her about this, okay? It’ll be our little secret.”

Queequeg only snored. 

Mulder watched the dog sleep, which was a comfort, as it weirdly reminded him of watching Scully sleep. As much as he disliked the animal he didn’t want to disturb him. So Mulder pulled his pillow down to the floor and spread out on the carpet, settling in for an uncomfortable evening.

  
  


**_SUNDAY_ **

 

It seemed the two of them had come to some kind of truce overnight. Although Mulder knew the dog didn’t understand what had happened the night before, he’d certainly been a witness to the event and as such, Mulder couldn’t shake the feeling that Scully would somehow find out. It was silly, irrational even, but he couldn’t control the way his mind worked. 

In any case, there had been a ceasefire on Queequeg’s end and Mulder was genuinely enjoying his company. Mulder took him for a walk around downtown Alexandria and sat at an outdoor cafe with some work he’d brought home and bought a cold beer and a pretzel. He fed the dog pieces of the pretzel and the truce continued throughout the afternoon. It was nice and relaxing and it had been so long since Mulder had done anything like that, he wondered if the dog had brought it out in him, or if boredom and the Scullylessness of the weekend had pushed him to do something unusual.

On more than one occasion a woman passed and smiled at him, or even bent down to pet Queequeg. _He’s so cute_ , they’d say. _He’s not mine, I’m watching him for a friend,_ Mulder would explain. 

Later that night, he found himself thinking about the dream. It wasn’t the first time he’d imagined kissing Scully, but it was the first time it had felt so vivid, so intense. He was a bit concerned about how he’d behave when he saw her again, if it would be weird. If he’d feel differently, or if he’d just bury the feelings deep down like he always did. 

He started wondering what Scully was doing right now. He checked his watch, calculated the time difference, speculated she was probably at the wedding. Maybe she was laughing. Maybe she was dancing.

Maybe she was dancing with some guy.

This image made him uncomfortable so he tried to shake it away. But the thought persisted; her smile, her laugh. He got to see that, hear that, so rarely. Maybe it was why he always made dumb jokes around her. He just wanted to see her smile. Imagining her smiling as some guy asked her to dance made him feel sick for some reason.

Queequeg followed him from room to room as he ate his dinner, watched TV, used the bathroom, brushed his teeth. The dog was like a little magnet he couldn’t shake loose. Part of him wanted his privacy but another part of him, the part that sometimes regretted how many nights he spent in this apartment feeling lonely, kind of liked it. 

 

***

 

He’d just settled in on the floor, again, when his cell rang.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

“You’re still awake?” Mulder looked at the clock, surprised, thinking surely even with the time difference Scully would be asleep by now. He glanced up at the couch where Queequeg was fast asleep in the very center, as usual. 

Her voice was soft, as if she was trying to stay quiet. “I’m trying to fall asleep. I can’t. Figured you’d be up too.”

She knew him too well. “You got that right. Why do you sound so quiet?” He had the agonizing thought for a moment she’d gone home with some guy, and braced himself for impact.

“My nephew is asleep in the room with me,” she said. “I don’t want to wake him up.”

_Whew._ “How was the wedding?” he asked.

“It was fun,” she said. “Nice to be… away from it all, you know?”

“I guess so,” he said, trying not to be hurt that ‘away from it all’ certainly meant away from him. “Who got married?”

“Just an old family friend from the base,” she explained. “We’re all cooped up at Charlie’s house, which is why I’ve been stuck with a tiny roommate.”

“Seeing as I’ve also been stuck with a tiny roommate I can sympathize,” Mulder grinned. “Does he snore?” 

“Not as bad as Queequeg,” she pointed out.

“I’ve noticed,” Mulder grinned. Queequeg snorted in his sleep.

“So… how is he?”

“He’s a handful, Scully, I’m not gonna lie.”

She laughed softly. “He can be. I guess I should have warned you, but I worried you wouldn’t take him.”

He didn’t say aloud the unspoken truth, which was that he would have taken in a rabid raccoon if Scully had asked him to. 

“What made you decide to keep him, if he’s so much trouble?” Mulder asked. “I’m sure someone else would have taken him.”

Scully sighed. “I couldn’t do that. He was all alone, and he attached himself to me right away.” She paused for a moment. “He trusted me.”

Mulder nodded, listening.

“I’d never want him to think I was keeping him out of obligation, or anything like that, but I could never break that trust,” she said. “And deep down he really is such a sweetheart.”

“Hmph.” Mulder couldn’t help but scoff. He’d actually grown quite fond of the little guy over the past couple days, but giving Scully a hard time was fun. “He’s all right, I guess.”

“I do appreciate it, Mulder.”

“I’m glad you found each other, anyway. It’s been nice not being alone all weekend, I have to admit.”

“You see?” He could hear her smiling through the phone, and it wasn't as good as seeing it but it would suffice. “I never expected him to take over my life like he did, but it happened. And he’s mine now.” She paused for a moment. “I love him, you know?”

Mulder looked around, taking in his trashed apartment, the pee-stained couch, his empty fridge. Queequeg fast asleep on his favorite spot, none the wiser. Taking so much and giving so little in return. But Scully had found something lovable about him anyway.

He felt a flutter within. Suddenly he knew she wasn’t talking about the dog anymore. He knew now what Scully saw in Queequeg. It was the same thing she saw in Mulder.

“Yeah, I do know.”

They were both quiet for a moment, the only sound Queequeg’s interminable snoring.

“I think… he’s very lucky to have you, Scully. To have someone like you who loves him in spite of his… deficiencies.”

She didn’t respond right away, as if the meaning of his words had actually gotten through. He was communicating without actually telling her anything risky. It was how he always operated. Telling her the truth was dangerous.

Scully could always be counted upon, however, not to let the moment hang between them for too long. He knew she wasn’t willing to risk it either.

“Deficiencies, huh?” she chuckled. “How much am I going to owe you for damages?”

“More than you could ever afford, Scully,” he smiled. 

“Eesh. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. He reached out to stroke the dog’s soft fur. “But you owe me, big time.”

“Message received,” she said. They sat in a shared silence for a moment. “Hey, Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you talk to me for a little while? You know, until I fall asleep?”

“Sure, Scully.” It wasn’t the first time they’d done this and it wouldn’t be the last. Having Scully there to talk to in the middle of the night had been such a welcome comfort over the past three years. His heart lurched and he felt so lucky to know her, so lucky she cared for him in the way only she could. 

He told her about his day, which included talk of a new case he’d been taking a look at he planned to show her when she returned. He could tell she was tired because every time he expected a rebuttal he instead heard a soft _mmmm…_ until there were no more sounds and he knew she’d fallen asleep.

Queequeg suddenly woke up and moved to the end of the couch. It wasn’t as if he needed this dog to teach him a lesson, to teach him how grateful he was to have Scully in his life, but instruction was happening all the same.

He grabbed his pillow and moved up to the couch, expecting the dog to either jump down or curl up at his feet but Queequeg did neither; he padded up Mulder’s legs and settled down on his chest, staring at him. Mulder laughed and scratched his biscuit-colored cheeks.

“Scully can’t know how much you’ve grown on me, little guy,” Mulder said. Queequeg licked his nose. “This has to be our little secret, okay?”

Queequeg barked and snuggled down onto Mulder’s chest. The two of them fell asleep, and Mulder dreamed this time of little secrets and big secrets and Scully’s love for a lost dog who needed someone almost as much as Mulder needed her.

Almost.

  
  


**_MONDAY_ **

 

Since Scully was out of town he’d told Skinner he'd be working at home today, but he hadn’t so much as opened a file. He was having too much fun with the damn dog.

They’d gone on another walk and rather than pretend he knew what the hell he was doing, he followed wherever Queequeg led. He threw a ball for him and sometimes he retrieved it, sometimes he didn’t. His unpredictability became what he liked most about him. 

Scully was coming by later that evening to pick him up and he almost dreaded it: because he knew he was going to actually miss having Queequeg around, sure, but mostly because he was terrified to see her again after being forced to face some of the feelings he’d begun having.

He and Queequeg were in the middle of watching _Ghostbusters_ when he heard a knock at his door. It was a little after 8:00 and he realized she was an hour late.

He opened the door and she gave him a shy smile. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail and she had on jeans and a sleeveless top, which was something he wasn’t used to seeing her in. 

"Sorry, flight was delayed," she said sheepishly.

“Come on in,” he said.

“Are you sure? I don't want to put you out any more, I haven’t even been home yet. I figured you’d want me to get him out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“I insist,” he said. “You can’t go yet, we haven’t finished the movie. He’s really into it, I think.”

She looked a bit tired but seemed to oblige him eagerly, grinning as he shuffled her inside. As they moved into the living room Queequeg noticed her and barked excitedly, jumping down off the couch and running into her arms.

“Queequeg! Did you miss me?” He covered her face in kisses and she laughed and smiled, perhaps the biggest smile he’d seen on her yet. _Lucky bastard_ , he thought, knowing the dog was fully responsible.

“He did,” Mulder said truthfully, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He missed you a lot.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, maybe catching his not-so-subtle subtext. “I hope he wasn't too difficult.”

“He’s nothing but trouble and I’m glad you’re back to take him far away,” Mulder said, winking.

Scully smiled back and then eyed the room, which Mulder had tidied up earlier. “Where are all these damages I owe you for?”

“I was only kidding about that, Scully. He was fine. You don’t owe me a thing.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously, not a thing.” He eyed her. “I mean it.”

“Thank you,” she said. 

“Anytime, Scully.”

Queequeg looked between them, back and forth, as they looked at each other for probably far too long. They did that from time to time. The silence was soon broken by the loud screaming of Peter Venkman as Slimer chased him, and Mulder gestured for her to sit on the couch. She hesitated but then wordlessly agreed. 

They watched the movie for a while but he wasn’t paying attention at all. Every once in a while Scully would laugh and he’d watch her instead, the way he could see more teeth than he usually could, the way her nose crinkled a bit. He made a mental note to always pick a comedy if she ever came over to watch a movie with him again.

Queequeg situated himself between them on the couch and Mulder’s eyes kept darting over to Scully’s shoulder, her bare shoulder that was maybe eight inches away. He looked at a small freckle he’d never noticed before- _why would he?_ and it was as if this tiny patch of skin had opened up an entirely new world to him. A world of the vast unknowable, a world where Dana Scully wasn’t just his partner, his co-worker. She was a woman sitting next to him on his couch.

He wondered if it was even okay to think this. 

“Are you cold?” he suddenly asked, realizing she surely noticed him looking at her and didn't want to appear to be a creep.

“I’m fine,” she said, leaning back into the couch. “It’s nice in here.”

_It’s nice when you’re here,_  he thought, again allowing himself to enjoy this, the not-being-lonely part. He was so comfortable he leaned back too, and started scratching Queequeg behind the ears. Scully noticed.

“Mulder!” she said in surprise.

“What?” 

“You _do_ like him, don’t you?” a tiny smirk was forming on her face, one that threatened to turn into a full smile. He wanted to see that smile, and for once be the one responsible for it. 

“Fine. He’s all right, I guess,” he answered honestly. “But I don’t think he deserves you, Scully.”

“Oh?”

Mulder shook his head. “You should have the perfect dog. The American Dream dog. Not the one that eats old ladies and pees all over the furniture. The one that waits for you on your porch behind your white picket fence. You should go find _that_ dog.”

Scully looked at him for a moment, taking that in. He didn’t know her as well as he should, as well as he wanted to, but he knew this much. He knew what she deserved and she deserved better than him.

Scully smiled and shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want that dog.” She scratched Queequeg’s head while she looked directly into Mulder’s eyes. “I want this one.”

He then saw it, the smile, The Smile he’d been wanting to see. He’d put it there, finally, and he was living for it. 

He nodded and grinned, and as they both turned back to the movie his hand went to pet the dog’s head where it bumped into hers. Neither of them pulled away.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Queequeg was a v.v. good boy. Maybe if he'd stuck around longer these two idiots would have gotten together sooner.
> 
> Thanks for reading, feedback is much appreciated as always!


End file.
